Saturday, 29 November 2014

Homemade Christmas cards. I've been waiting for this moment ever since I found out I was pregnant. A tiny pair of glue-covered hands, newspaper stuck to the dining table, a dusting of glitter across the floor, and a pile of imperfect, totally unique Christmas cards.

I looked for Christmas card ideas last year, but one year olds are so crap at crafts, you have to do basically the entire work yourself. You also have to accept finger-paint covered walls as your new normal, and embrace working alongside a naked artist, which, quite frankly, I wasn't willing to do.

This year though, at nearly three, Ebony is not only old enough to be (about 87%) trusted around my very white walls, and to wear her own clothes in the presence of glue and glitter, but she also love crafts. She loves nothing more than making a total mess, er, I mean, creating a masterpiece. She would probably spend most of her time painting, if she could. So I knew she would love making her own Christmas cards.

I already had some blank cards and envelopes, so just needed to get the extras. I ordered the red and green card online, and managed to find some gems too which I thought would be great as baubles. The (very weird) card shop down the road sold glitter glue, and then we had everything we needed.

My mum and dad still have all of the Christmas crafts me and my sister made when we were little, and these are hauled out every year and stuck up around the fireplace. The idea for the cards I made with Ebony came from one of these antique craft pieces which must date back to my nursery days long, long ago.

We listened to Christmas songs (yeah, it's November. What?), drank hot drinks, and spent two afternoons crafting away at the dining table together. It was lots of fun, and Ebony really enjoyed it. She managed to make over 30 cards, the only problem is I'm now having to beg her to let me have them, because she wants to give each and every one to her friend George.

Wednesday, 26 November 2014

Hotel Chocolat is probably one of my favourite shops to visit in Manchester. On the rare occasions I manage to spend the day shopping, I always make Hotel Chocolat my last port of call. I love that they have vegan options, and that they label them as such (a true rarity amongst chocolate makers these days). I love working my way round the store, trying to decide which chocolates to buy. Marzipan ones, obviously.

Last year, we went to visit some lovely friends in Brighton who very kindly introduced us to Hotel Chocolat’s Buche. If you haven’t had it, please believe me when I say you need it in your life. It is so good, so so good. If we have them in the house, Laurie has to hide them so that I don’t eat them when he’s at work. I’m not proud of that, but it’s true.

When Hotel Chocolat asked whether I would like to review one of their festive wreaths, and have another to give away to a lucky reader, I salivated. And then said yes, of course. Because, really, what sort of vegan turns down free fancy chocolate?!

The wreath arrived in a fancy bag, and was beautifully packaged inside. I think it would make an amazing Christmas present, and is the perfect offering for the host of your Christmas dinner this year.

I really love the wreath design, I think it’s festive but without the novelty value you get with a chocolate santa or reindeer. Not that there’s anything wrong with novelty, especially at Christmas. I was sent the large wreath which feeds nine, and can be bought (here) for £22. That might sound like a lot to spend on chocolate, but believe me when I say it is worth it.

The wreath is made from rich, dark chocolate, and covered in Marcona almonds, roasted Piedmont hazelnuts and South African golden raisins. And it is delicious. I was slightly heart broken to have to cut it up because it’s so pretty, but I very quickly got over this. It is rich and decadent and definitely does not disappoint.

I gave a bit to Ebony who was suspiciously hovering around my elbow, and her humble verdict was that it was “crunchy and delicious”. So, there you go.

Hotel Chocolat have very kindly offered one of their delicious festive wreaths as a prize. To be in with a chance of winning, all you need to do is fill in the Rafflecopter below. Good luck!

Tuesday, 25 November 2014

We are big Julia Donaldson fans, so when we were given the chance to review one of her latest releases, we jumped at the chance. The Further Adventures of the Owl and the Pussycat is Donaldson’s take on the next chapter of the classic childrens’ book The Owl and the Pussycat.

When I was a child, I had a small, hardback copy of The Owl and the Pussycat, which currently resides on Ebony’s bookshelf. To be perfectly honest, the original book isn’t one of my favourites, mostly thanks to the, erm, changes in word meanings that have occurred since it was written. I had read it a few times, but it hadn’t become a firm favourite by any means.

I was sent a copy of the original book written by Edward Lear, and of Julia Donaldson’s new tale to review. Both copies are illustrated by Charlotte Voake, and I absolutely love the style of illustration. She uses great colours, and the pictures really add to the story,

The copy of The Owl and the Pussycat has a foreword by Julia Donaldson and it is genuinely so interesting. I had no idea that the original copy was written as a gift for a friend’s daughter who was ill. Or that Edward Lear had written other, darker stories. This story obviously holds a special place in Donaldson’s heart, and is closely tied to her relationship with her grandmother. I love the personal insights into both authors, and the importance of the story.

Donaldson talks about the popularity of The Owl and the Pussycat, but mentions her fear that it is more popular with children than adults. I think she’s right, and I think her new book will go some way towards ensuring that children enjoy this poem again. I know that it has made me appreciate the beauty of the original book, and the way it is written.

The Further Adventures of the Owl and the Pussycat follows the characters on their next adventure. Following the theft of their wedding ring, the couple are forced to go on an adventure to retrieve it, meeting some of Lear’s lesser known characters along the way.The book is written in the same style as the original story, but has a more modern feel to it. In keeping with Donaldson’s other work, the book is a joy to read, fun and engaging, and really does bring Lear’s style back to life.

The new book works as a stand alone story, but of course is even better when read alongside its inspiration. We have been reading these books at bedtime for the past few weeks, and we both love them.

You can pick up a copy of The Owl and the Pussycat here, and, since they go so nicely as a set, you can also get a copy of The Further Adventures of the Owl and the Pussycathere.

Sunday, 23 November 2014

We’ve been living in our house for six months now. It’s actually quite terrifying that we’ve been here so long, especially when I glance around at all the unfinished jobs around the house. This house wasn’t a huge project when we bought it, but it was unloved and very magnolia.

It is still very magnolia, which is at least partly down to a total lack of free time. Where are you meant to fit DIY in amongst so much working and a need for family time?! Our problem is that even when we do decide to sort out a room, it takes us ages to get everything finished. Our kitchen still needs another coat of paint and some other odd bits to finish it off.

When the lovely people at Koko Kids offered me some wall stickers to review, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to sort out Ebony’s bedroom. I love the idea of wall stickers, but I’ve never really seen any that I love. They never look like quite the right fit for my home, they’re either too big or just not my style at all. When I had a glance through the selection at Koko Kids, I was very pleased to discover that this was not the case.

They had a great selection, and there were quite a few designs that caught my eye. I really loved the bunnies stickers, but in the end opted for this gorgeous cloud design. My mum came over to help paint Ebony’s bedroom, and after a couple of days of having paint on my eyelashes (does this happen to other people?), it was finished.

I finally moved everything back into her now-very-white room this afternoon, and decided to put the wall stickers up above her bed. The sticker sheet is reusable, allowing you to store the stickers again if you wish. This came in useful for me because I decided not to use all of the raindrops in the pack, so I’ve been able to store the rest in a cupboard. One of the things I love about these wall stickers is that you have artistic control over them. It’s not one huge sticker, it’s lots of little ones so you can decide how to arrange them.

The stickers are fabric, textured and easy to use. I love the different patterns on the raindrops. It took me a while to decide exactly where I wanted mine, and I found they unpeeled easily and hadn’t left any residue on the newly painted walls. I absolutely love how they turned out, I think they add a little something to Ebony’s room, and look really stylish.

Ebony thinks they are very pretty, but said she wishes she had an umbrella in bed now. So, it might be worth buying an umbrella too if you’re thinking of choosing some of these for your child’s room. You can buy the three cloud wall sticker from Koko Kids for just £19.95, they’re available in pink and blue. Or, have a browse at the other stickers in their collection.

Thursday, 20 November 2014

No, I don’t want to play shopkeepers. Not now, not ever. I hate shopkeepers. It is the single worst part of being a mother, way worse than the time you pooed on my leg in a cafe. I don’t want this to come across as angry, so I’ve tried to turn it into constructive criticism. I hope you will be able to take the points below and improve your business.

The shop is rubbish. The stock is arranged haphazardly, with little or no thought going into the product range itself, or the way it is displayed. It is hard to find the things I want, and I am very often rudely informed that the shop doesn’t sell the everyday items I am in search of and that I ‘must buy something else instead’.

The pricing system is bizarre, every single item I have ever purchased, from a single playing card right through to the guitar, cost me no more than ‘two’. And, regardless of how many of my plastic coins I pay with, I always receive change. You might wonder why I would complain about such a stroke of luck, but this change is usually throw at my head, often along with the item I have purchased. Fortunately for me, the shopkeeper seems to have terrible aim, though I was struck by a large plastic skittle on one particularly regrettable visit to the shop.

The level of customer service is appalling. I have been shouted at and humiliated for needing to use the bathroom. I have been told I am not allowed to buy a number of the items on display, ‘just cos’. On one occasion, the shopkeeper told me my bottom was much, much too big to fit into the crappy knickers on sale in store, and proceeded to laugh about it for a very long time. Whilst pointing at said bottom.

I would say on at least half of the occasions I have visited the store, there has been a very large, and very distracting, caterpillar hanging from at least one of the nostrils of the shopkeeper. I can see that there are both tissues and handkerchiefs in the shop so this leads me to assume that the caterpillar of snot is there out of choice, and perhaps even part of the uniform.

As soon as I enter the store, the shopkeeper asks me what I would like to buy today, whilst looking around at the seemingly senseless pile of random price-tag-free items next to the till. Sometimes, I like to be given the opportunity to browse. In most shops, I can happily peruse the stock in my own time, and am given the opportunity to approach the staff myself should I have any queries. Not in this shop, oh no, as soon as the shopkeeper gets a whiff of me I am immediately rushed into finalising my purchase.

On each and every visit, I have tried to make small talk with the shopkeeper. Perhaps, I think each time I enter, perhaps today the shopkeeper and I will really hit it off. And yet each time my friendly chatter falls on deaf ears. In fact, when I enquire as to how the shopkeeper’s day has been, the retort is a raised, almost shouted, repeat enquiry as to what I would like to buy that day. Even if I take the weight of the small talk upon my own shoulders, offering information about my own day, the best I can hope for is a roll of the eyes and the shopkeeper aggressively shouting ‘WHAT YOU WANT TO BUY, TODAY?”

Even once I’ve gone to the effort of selecting a mediocre item from the dismal selection on offer, paid for it with my hard-earned two, and caught the change that has been flung at my head, I get no peace. There is no ‘thank you’, ‘goodbye’ or ‘come back soon’. Far from it, in fact, as soon I have stooped down to gather my new belonging up off the floor (yes, the floor), I am immediately asked what I want to buy now. And the whole soulless charade begins again.

I am not even allowed a break to enjoy whichever piece of crap I just purchased. I am forced to abandon it, and immediately re-enter the shop to begin another joyless transaction to avoid the disappointment of the worst shopkeeper in the world.

The only way I can escape the cycle of misery that is ‘playing shopkeepers’, is with bedtime masquerading as storytime. And even then, I can feel the disappointment deep in the pit of my stomach that tomorrow, I will be required once again to enter the toddler bazar.

Please, can’t shopkeepers be yours and daddy’s special game, that just the two of you play?

Tuesday, 18 November 2014

I was a massive Boyzone fan at primary school. We all were, right? I had one bright blue poster of Boyzone wearing A LOT of denim on my bedroom wall. If, at age nine, I had only been able to look at one thing for the rest of my life, I would have chosen that poster. With the benefit of hindsight, I can now confirm that this would have been a terrible mistake, but at the time, Boyzone were my everything.

As a fellow Boyzone fan, I’m sure you remember their song ‘Words’... right? In it, the five future husbands of my ten year old self repeatedly croon the phrase ‘It’s only words’ (I really hope it’s stuck in your head now. YouTube it, I dare you. Did you? Yeah, they’re not as dreamy as they were when you were ten, are they?) Thanks again to the gift of hindsight, and perhaps age, I can now see that there is no such thing as ‘only words’.

A few simple words can change everything, and I think this is never more true than when you are a child. Not a weird poster-of-Stephen-Gateley’s-chest-kissing ten year old child (because by this age no words in the world could get through to a girl staring at her Boyzone poster - feel free to insert a more topical pop reference here, but I have no idea who anyone is post 1999), but an actual tiny just-starting-to-learn-about-the-world child, like mine. To these kids, to my daughter, your words are everything. And here are five things I really wish YOU would stop saying to her:

Be careful

There is a ramp leading to the car park at our local train station. The footpath turns back on itself, and there is a short wall between the two sections of the ramp. Ebony loves nothing more than to walk along that wall. As soon as we alight the train, she will make her way to the top of the ramp. Whilst there, as the commuters and other passengers start to walk down the path, she slips past them, under the handrail and straight onto the wall. Once there, she will look at me and grin, and then walk along the wall until she reaches the other side of the ramp, at which point she jumps down and opens the gate leading to the car park.

The wall is not high, nor is it dangerous. And yet, each time she stands on that wall, the other passengers will tell her to be careful. They will look around her, concerned, and demand that she hold on, slow down or be careful - which she does, even though she doesn’t need to. A couple of days ago, we were the only passengers to leave the train, and as soon as she climbed the wall, I heard Ebony muttering to herself that she needed to be careful. It’s disheartening to see my usually fearless child giving in to the worries of strangers.

Naughty

I hate the word naughty, and I’m not going to lie and say I never do it, because sometimes - when I’m stressed and tired and I just really want things to go as planned - it slips out. And I hate it, and always take it back immediately. But I try my absolute hardest not to say it, so thankfully it is a very rare slip of the tongue. Yet I’ve noticed the rest of the world only too quick to label children, toddlers, babies even, as naughty. I really wish we wouldn’t label children (or anyone, actually) at all, least of all as something negative. I know when I have been called things in the past, the comments have stuck with me, leaving me wondering how much truth was in them. I assume children must feel this too, especially when the comments are made by an adult, and probably ten-fold when that adult is in a position of trust.

Good girl

This is a pet hate of mine. If there’s one thing I don’t want Ebony to be described as when she’s an adult, it’s a good girl. I want her to be a force to be reckoned with, a strong minded woman, and someone who isn’t afraid to be herself. I don’t want her to be a do-as-you’re-told, wouldn’t-cause-trouble, vegan-butter-wouldn’t-melt, sweet-mannered woman. I want her to get shit done. And sometimes, that means speaking up, it means standing up for yourself, and it means fighting against what you’re told. So, whilst it can be annoying at times to spend my days with a two year old who will not wear a coat on even the coldest days, says no to most requests, and is positively contrary at every possible opportunity, I know we’re heading in the right direction. I for one am not going to squash that strong side of her personality, I want it to shine through. And I really wish other people would stop complimenting her on doing exactly what they say, because I love the fact she isn’t afraid to voice her (admittedly often downright nonsensical) opinions for all to hear.

It’s ok

This one really drives me crazy because, you know what, sometimes it’s not ok. A good way of knowing whether it’s ok, is to listen out for crying children. Should you hear the sobs of a child, it’s pretty safe to assume that things are actually not ok. I don’t care whether she’s banged her head, is upset because someone else has a toy she wants, or just feels tired - I don’t want people to dismiss her upset. It might not seem like a big deal to you, but that’s probably because you’re not two. If you’re stuck for something to say when a child is crying, try offering reassurance by saying you are there, not by telling her that her emotions are not valid.

Son

Just because, well, she isn’t actually a boy. Short hair does not necessarily signify ownership of a penis.Which phrases drive you crazy as a parent?

Thursday, 13 November 2014

I was lucky enough to review some mouth-watering Freedom Mallows at the start of the year, if you want to read me wax lyrical about the taste and texture of these sweet treats, you can do so here. When the company got in touch with me a few weeks ago and offered me a few more packets to try (just before Bonfire Night), I said yes. Obviously.

Freedom Mallows are vegan, vegetarian, lactose free, nut free, Halal, Kosher and farmed in a way that is sustainable for the indigenous unicorn population. Or something. Oh, and they taste amazing. I have tried a lot (seriously, a lot) of vegan marshmallows, and these are by far the best. They are creamy, powdery (in a good way), and taste just like the marshmallows I remember toasting on the many Bonfire Nights of my youth.

The company has rebranded, bidding a kind farewell to the cute bunny packaging of days gone by. Now, a lovable sloth, affectionately known to all his friends as Cedric, takes centre stage, and the once-pastel colours have been replaced with bright packaging more in keeping with other marshmallow packaging. The new packaging is great, a definite improvement, and yet hasn’t lost any of the important information detailing who can (pretty much everyone) eat the goodies inside. Freedom Mallows have also added miniature mallows to their product range, these are perfect for baking with. They melt faster, and are perfect atop a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

The marshmallows arrived the week of Halloween, and Ebony and I decided to make some rice krispie cakes with them. I’d seen the recipe in my Sweet Vegan book (if you don’t have this, you need to add it to your collection. You can get it for just a few pounds here), but hadn’t been able to try it yet. The mallows melted quickly, and turned into the most delicious looking sludge I’ve ever seen. Ok, eaten. The rice krispie cake themselves were nothing short of AMAZING, I only wish we’d made more.

The one thing I’ve never known a vegan mallow do, is toast properly on a fire. I’ve tried it with a few brands, and most of them simply melted slightly but became nothing more than an oozing, limp disappointment. On Bonfire Night, after successfully making a bonfire single-handed (I know, I know, pretty impressive) and not killing anyone (even more impressive), we toasted some Freedom Mallows. They melted, oh they melted. And they were creamy and they tasted amazing. We ate pretty much the entire packed before Laurie got home (let’s call it a fire starting tax), and he was left with just a few to try.

Of course, there’s a whole other packet in the cupboard, but that’s just my little secret.

Freedom Mallows can be ordered here for just £2.49 a bag, or you can pick up a bag at your local Holland and Barrett. You may also be able to find them in your local health food shop or vegan fair. If you can’t be bothered going to all that effort, fear not, because I have some to giveaway.

Freedom Mallows are very kindly offering three of my readers the chance to try these delectable treats for free. Each winner will win three bags of mallows (a mixture of the regular sized mallows and minis) and a cotton shopping bag featuring none other than Cedric the sloth. All you have to do is fill in the Rafflecopter to be in with a chance of winning. Good luck!

Tuesday, 11 November 2014

As lovers of both the environment and saving money, we try not to overheat our home. Last year, we managed to get to December without putting the heat on. Our old house was well insulated, and had a working fire in the living room so we could warm up the room on particularly cold evenings. We were jumpers, snuggled under blankets, drank lots of tea and, most importantly, aclimatised.

This winter, we’re in a new house. This one is not yet insulated, it’s drafty and has a conse

rvatory that seems to let in an endless supply of cold. We haven’t used the heating yet, no doubt when we do we will discover it doesn’t work. We’re holding out, trying to go as long as we can before putting it on. Because once it’s on, that’s it, it will stay on for months simply out of habit because we’ll be used to feeling snug. Right now, I’m used to wearing thermals, and that’s ok.

As someone who is worried about climate change, I think it’s important to reduce the amount of heating we use each year, and certainly the amount of energy wasted. We will be getting the house insulated to try and ensure it is an energy efficient as possible, so that when we do eventually give in and turn on the heating, we will still be saving energy.

This house is currently not very eco friendly, and there are lots of things we can do to reduce its impact on the planet. We’ve already made some small but important changes that have boosted our green credentials. When we moved in, the dishwasher plumbing was hot water, meaning that every time we washed our clothes, we used a lot of hot water. I assume this was a throwback to the days when washing machines needed hot water, but it meant the clothes came out hot which was very weird. It also meant we kept running out of hot water, meaning we had to heat up another tank, wasting yet more energy. We’ve now switched things around so that the washing machine has only cold water running to it.

We’ve also installed a dishwasher, which though they were once thought of as an unnecessary energy indulgence, now actually use less water than washing by hand. Saving water is another important step you can take to reduce your impact on the planet. Thanks to our teeny tiny bath, we also tend to favour showers which is another great way to save water.

I always turn the tap off whilst brushing my teeth, rather than letting it run continuously. When Ebony was younger, I was so proud the first time she stood at the sink to clean her own teeth, turning the taps off just as I do. Children definitely do learn from observing, rather than being nagged. It made me realise just how much she takes in of my daily routine, without me even noticing.

What steps do you take to minimise water and energy consumption in your home?

Friday, 7 November 2014

I have always loved reading, though lately it is proving more difficult to find the time. I haven’t commuted for three years, and so don’t have that forced reading time carved into each working day. I can try reading whilst looking after Ebony, but it usually turns into a negotiation of me juggling a few pages of my book with at least two whole books of hers, as she looks up at me and patiently explains, once again, that she cannot read yet. On the rare occasions that I am not well and truly exhausted by the time my head hits the pillow, I manage the odd chapter at the end of the day.

I am certain that making time to read improves my quality of life. It lets me escape the toddler tantrums, reminds me of words I haven’t used in ages, and, most importantly, re-ignites my internal monologue. After hours spent reading the thoughts of characters from a book, I inevitably find that my own internal monologue returns to ponder about my daily life. When I heard that someone I used to work with had won The Dundee International Book Prize award last month, I couldn't wait to read the published book. My copy of The Other Ida arrived last week, and I managed to devour every word within just a few days. It’s just amazing. I am certain that knowing Amy has not clouded my judgement, and this book is truly as amazing as I think it is. After all, how could sharing a hotel room together after a work event, and waking up with my head in the toilet bowl, in anyway make me biased towards Amy's work.I’ve never really understood how to write a book review without accidentally spoiling the story or only half discussing things whilst being irritatingly vague. So I’m going to try really hard to review the book without doing either of those things.

This book is about fame, family, chaos and secrets. Ida, about to turn thirty, has so far lived a life of destruction, with drink and drugs taking centre stage. As she returns home for her once famous mother’s funeral, she is forced to confront her past, and try to rebuild the relationship with her sister, Alice, who she hasn’t seen for years.

The characters are complicated and real, each one of them likable and dislikable in almost equal measure. The story, set over a number of decades, twists and turns as you make your way through the chapters. The story moves in unpredictable directions, revealing more mysteries or shedding light on the story’s history. The characters, and storyline, are nothing short of intriguing, and you will find yourself desperate to get to the end of the book. The Other Ida is amazing until the very end, and you will get there sooner than you think because who needs sleep when there is a fascinating and destructive family to read about?

The Other Ida by Amy Mason is available at all good bookshops now. You can also buy it here for £8.99.

Cargo Publishing have very kindly given me a copy of The Other Ida to giveaway. All you need to do to enter is fill in the Rafflecopter below. Good luck!

Wednesday, 5 November 2014

One of the things I love about this blog is that I can look back at all the memories we have created as a family. I don’t keep a diary, so this blog is a nice way of remembering what we have done.

We recently made a family trip to see Blackpool Illuminations. We made this same pilgrimage last year (read about it here), so it was nice to look back and see how Ebony had changed over the past 12 months. Though mostly what I noticed was that it’s probably about time Ebony got a new hat, and that Laurie is in desperate need of a new winter coat.

This year’s visit wasn’t as well planned as the last. It was a last minute decision, and we had to get ready quickly so that we could set off before it was too late. It’s usually just over an hour’s drive, but this time Laurie accidentally drove all the way to Lancaster and had to turn around, so it took a bit longer this year.

It was dark when we arrived, but we were all wrapped up warm in preparation for the notorious Blackpool weather. The weather forecast said dry, which turned out to be wrong, but I hadn’t planned for the wind at all. I didn’t have anything to tie my hair up with, so I mostly looked like a giant flailing hair ball as I made my way blindly down the promenade.

We didn’t go all the way into Blackpool this time, so my exposure to stag and hen parties was at an all time low. We just stayed around the big illuminations, rather than making our way to the piers. If we’d had more time, we would definitely have ventured further, but as time was limited, we kept things simple. We started off with chips, of course, eaten outside because I can’t think of anything worse than trying to eat food whilst surrounded by the smell of chip shop sausages. Vom. It was, I must admit, a bit windy for eating outside, but we persevered.

Once we’d eaten, we headed to the illuminations. This year, Ebony recognised more of the TV characters (a sure sign of a demise of our parenting skills) and was more interested in trying to get as close as possible to the illuminations. It was really windy, I managed to catch Ebony’s hat a couple of times when it blew off, but Ebony was knocked onto her bum by a particularly strong gust. Mr Teddy Bear came with us, and was lucky enough to be held high for the duration of the illuminations so he wouldn't miss a single one.

Ebony's favourite illumination was the one with the mummies, I have no idea why but each time we passed it she informed us she needed to watch that one lots and lots of times. She also liked the illumination with the boulder that moves to reveal treasure, it has a sign saying ‘OPEN SESAME’. We all said it a few times, and then noticed that Ebony was actually saying “OPEN SESAME SEED.”

After strolling past the illuminations, and stocking up on Blackpool junk food at the shop, we decided it was time to head home. Ebony looked exhausted, though not too tired to notice the man selling flashing lights, so we ended up with yet another plastic flashing sword destined for landfill. Sword clasped tightly in her palm, Ebony slept the whole way home.

The one photograph of me and Ebony is blurry because, well, Laurie took it.